5' 8"-5' 9"
By the middle of May, the sun had fully asserted its reign over the months to come. Californians were no strangers to the spring heat; they faced it every year. This time, it seemed even worse than usual. It was hardly 11am, and the thickness of air was already making it hard to breathe. Even dressed in a loose white T-shirt and lightweight cotton shorts that reached his knees, Noah felt like he was slowly melting the moment he stepped into direct sunlight. It was hard to imagine how Ethan—who preferred wearing nothing but dark colors—managed to survive weather like that.
Apparently, with mixed results. Today, he'd actually let himself step outside in a short-sleeved T-shirt and cropped jeans that left his ankles exposed. When Duncan met them at the front door carrying a packet of paperwork from Michael along with an official invitation to that evening's party, the sight of Ethan was so shocking that he clutched dramatically at his chest and kept howling after him all the way until Ethan and Noah disappeared into the welcome coolness of the garage.
"Ethan, what's up with the vulgarity?!" Smith shouted, positively delighted and entirely unconcerned by the bewildered looks from passersby. "That's way too much exposed skin! Have you no shame? Cover yourself! God forbid the neighbors see you!"
Ethan called his bodyguard an idiot, but Noah caught the unmistakable smile in his voice. It was another small victory among so many others. And that couldn't help but make Morgan happy.
"Mrs. Williams, would you prefer the blue dress or the green one?" The caregiver asked from behind the closed door. Noah didn't come to see his grandmother without a reason today. He was taking her out for a little walk, determined to turn the day into a small celebration. After all, it was a celebration. Today his grandmother turned seventy-seven. Unfortunately, she probably wouldn't remember it herself.
'The blue one, of course,' Noah thought as he waited patiently for the caregiver to help his grandmother get dressed.
"Of course the blue one, dear!" his grandmother's voice answered from inside the room, making Noah smile. Then, another fifteen minutes passed before the caregiver finally emerged, gently supporting the old lady by the arm. Barbara Williams greeted Noah wearing a loose sky-blue dress, a charming white sunhat, and a faintly bewildered smile painted in soft pink lipstick.
"Good morning," Noah greeted her warmly. The elderly woman looked at him with polite confusion before turning to the caregiver.
"Who is this young man?"
"He's the one who wants to spend a little time with you today, Barbara!" The caregiver replied gently. "You've been wanting to get out of the care home for quite a while."
Neither the caregiver nor Noah tried to convince her that the young man standing before her was her beloved grandson. They both knew it would only confuse her, or even frighten her.
"Well then! If you're willing to escort an old lady, young man, I'd be delighted to have your company," Barbara declared, allowing Noah to take the caregiver's place at her side. Together they stepped into the spring heat and made their way slowly along the narrow path leading toward the main gates. The sun beat down mercilessly. Grasshoppers chirped from every direction while birdsong drifted through the warm air. Emerald-green grass brushed against their ankles. Barbara kept making remarks that didn't always make much sense, but Noah answered every one of them as though they did. The doctor had warned him that she'd been getting worse lately. The disease was progressing relentlessly. This might well be the last time they'd get to take a walk like this beyond the walls of the care home.
And after that…
He refused to think about it. With deliberate effort, Noah pushed the dark thoughts aside. Today wasn't a day to dwell on painful realities. Today was a celebration. Everyone deserved to smile!
When they reached the parking lot, Ethan, who had been waiting beside the car, stepped forward and held the rear door open while Noah carefully helped his grandmother into the back seat. The whole thing was actually Ethan's idea. Which was rather surprising, considering how uneasy he became whenever Barbara mistook him for her grandson. And, sooner or later, she always did.
"Noah? My dear boy!" This time was no exception. "Oh, sweetheart, I'm so happy to see you!" Barbara exclaimed as Ethan settled into the driver's seat. "I had no idea your parents bought you a car!"
Seated in the front passenger seat, Noah couldn't suppress a quiet chuckle. The car they were sitting in was far beyond anything his parents could have afforded, even in their wildest dreams.
"The insects are especially aggressive this spring, don't you think?" Barbara continued, jumping from one subject to another without warning. Ethan shot her a puzzled look before flipping down the sun visor. A mirror was tucked inside. The moment he spotted the vivid hickey blooming along his neck, he slowly turned a dark, accusing look toward Noah. Morgan hadn't done it on purpose, though! Two months ago, Ethan had finally allowed him to hold his hand. A month ago, they shared their first kiss. A week ago… For many reasons, Ethan's recovery was moving much faster than it had the first time. Tulsi, his therapist, deserved a great deal of the credit. So did Michael and Duncan. Audrey, too, now that their relationship was finally beginning to rise from the ashes. Paul from Narcotics Anonymous had helped as well. Even Andrea, Scott, and Rufus had each played their part. And, of course, Noah. His hand was in play, too, of course. Noah would never claim the journey had been easy. Especially not in the beginning. Ethan relapsed into old habits. He constantly tried to pull away, to shut everyone out. He drowned himself in suffocating thoughts. But Noah had promised he'd stay beside him no matter what. And he'd kept that promise so far. Now, after the longest five months of his life, Noah had finally earned back the level of trust where Ethan was willing to let himself be naked in front of him once again.
Well…
Ethan had called this week making up for lost time. And it had been a remarkably... productive week.
Thomson quietly muttered something about Noah being impossible and having absolutely no self-control. Noah chuckled quietly again. He decided not to point out that, out of caution, he'd never been the one to initiate anything between them. The first move had always been Ethan's. Which made it rather strange to hear Thomson accusing Morgan of being unable to keep his desires in check. After all, it was Ethan who kept pinning him against every flat surface he could find, invariably trying to tug his pants off, sometimes at the most inconvenient moments.
"Where are we going, boys?" Barbara asked, peering curiously out the window.
"It's a surprise," Noah said with a smile, wisely leaving out the fact that he had no idea himself. Ethan had assured him everything was going according to plan, but he'd refused to reveal any of the details. Apparently, the surprise wasn't just for Barbara—it was for Noah as well.
Ethan's car pulled onto the highway and headed toward the city. Every few moments, Noah glanced from his grandmother to Ethan and back again, quietly savoring the fact that the two people he loved most were right there beside him. He knew without a doubt that years from now, he'd remember this day with a smile and warmth in his heart.
The city greeted them with stifling heat and weekend traffic. As the cars were moving slowly, Noah became drowsy, so he decided to have a chat with Ethan to keep himself awake.
"So, are you planning to keep the mystery going?" he asked quietly.
"We're almost there," Ethan replied, skillfully sidestepping the question.
"I just hope traffic clears up before tonight. I'd rather not be late for your father's charity gala."
Michael Thomson had won the case. José García was free of all charges. But that was hardly the end of Michael's work. According to his own enthusiastic account, it was only the beginning. The investigation had uncovered the names of numerous influential figures who had no intention of letting the matter rest. Neither did Michael. A long series of high-profile trials lay ahead, cases that would undoubtedly make the front page of every respectable newspaper in the state. If Noah had ended up in Michael Thomson's shoes, he was fairly certain the stress alone would've driven him insane. The Thomsons, however—father and son alike—were positively exhilarated. Like adrenaline junkies, they craved more: another explosive scandal, another case so shocking it'd make the average person's hair stand on end. First, though, they were going to celebrate José's freedom. Tonight's charity gala would serve as the culmination of the long, exhausting battle. José himself had promised to attend. The shy young man from a poor family had never been to an event like this before, but Noah had assured Ethan he'd keep an eye on him for support. It would be nice to spend some time talking with him.
"We won't be late," Ethan said confidently.
"We still have to stop by my apartment and then yours," Morgan reminded him. Thomson moved into his penthouse two months ago, although he still spent at least a couple of nights each week at his father's house. And just as many at Noah's apartment.
"I think we spend far too much time driving back and forth," Ethan said, drumming his fingers restlessly against the steering wheel. "Honestly, I think we're long overdue to settle the whole living arrangement."
"Settle it how?" Noah asked with a quiet laugh. "What do you mean?"
"You know exactly what I mean, Morgan." There was a note of frustration in Ethan's voice. "It'd be a lot simpler if you just moved in with me," he said in a completely casual tone.
"I don't think moving in together just because it'd be 'a lot simpler' is exactly the best reason," Noah teased with a soft snort. Truthfully, this wasn't the first time Ethan had brought it up. But despite his usual bluntness, he always slipped the subject into conversation almost offhandedly, as though it meant nothing to him. Noah had never quite understood why this particular topic made Ethan dance around what he really wanted to say, so he hadn't rushed to pack up his things and move in. Maybe Ethan genuinely thought it would be more convenient. However, Noah wanted it to mean something more.
"That's... not what I meant…" Ethan muttered under his breath. Noah barely managed to swallow the "I know" that rose to his lips. The rest of the drive passed in comfortable silence. Eventually, Ethan pulled up outside a familiar building. Without asking any questions, Noah got out and helped his grandmother from the car.
"A new exhibition?" he asked, looking up at the art gallery.
"I wouldn't say new," Ethan replied with a slight shake of his head. "Though I suppose a few things may have changed this time." There was a mysterious glint in his eyes. As Noah, Ethan, and Barbara approached the entrance, Noah finally noticed the promotional banner.
"Oh my God," Noah exclaimed. "This is the exhibition I wanted to take you to over six months ago! The one we never got to see!"
"That's right," Ethan said with a nod. Noah simply stared at Thomson. An overwhelming wave of tenderness washed through him. Not that he needed grand romantic gestures to love Ethan. He already loved him with every part of his heart and every fiber of his being. But moments like these always left him feeling as though he was somehow falling in love with Ethan all over again, even though he was certain that wasn't possible. Ethan had remembered about the display this whole time. And the moment it returned to the city, he'd brought not only Noah but his grandmother as well. It wasn't just sweet. It was so much more than that.
They approached the entrance only to find a notice that the gallery wouldn't open until two o'clock that afternoon.
"Looks like we're out of luck again," Noah said with a smile, though there was a hint of disappointment in his voice.
"Don't be ridiculous," Ethan replied. He reached for the handle and pulled the door open.
"What are you doing?" Noah asked. "It clearly says they don't open until two!"
"Of course," Ethan said. "Because until then, I've reserved the entire gallery." Thomson stepped aside, welcoming Noah and his grandmother.
"But... why?" Morgan whispered when they entered the cool lobby. The moment a gallery employee spotted the arriving guests, she hurried to greet them, wearing a burgundy suit.
"I figured your grandmother wouldn't enjoy being in a crowd," Ethan replied.
"Ethan…"
"What?"
"If I could, I'd kiss you right here!"
"You can kiss me whenever you want. Wherever you want," Thomson replied with a crooked smile. Before Noah could answer—or do what he threatened Ethan to do—the woman in the burgundy suit reached them. Beaming, she launched into an enthusiastic speech about what a wonderful decision Ethan had made by choosing to visit their gallery.
'...and by donating what was undoubtedly a very impressive amount of money,' Noah added silently, casting a sideways glance at Thomson. Ethan looked every bit as weary as he always did during conversations like this. Fortunately, the woman didn't keep them long. She simply offered to serve as their guide, only to be politely but firmly declined.
"My guide is already with me," Ethan said, nodding toward Noah. The woman smiled in understanding.
"In that case, I'll leave you to enjoy the exhibition!" She gestured toward the open doorway, beyond which stretched a succession of quiet galleries filled with seascapes and ocean views, each capturing the sea in a different mood through the eyes of master painters. Noah would've never called himself a guide. He knew far less about the artists and their works than he wished he did. Still, every painting inspired at least a few comments. Though, truthfully, they were meant more for his grandmother than for Ethan. Ethan's gaze drifted from canvas to canvas, and he looked unmistakably bored.
"You don't like it, do you?" Noah asked quietly after a while, allowing Barbara to wander a little farther ahead so she could absorb the paintings without his constant commentary in her ear.
"I'm afraid painting has never really interested me."
"Then why did you agree to come to the exhibition with me back in the fall?"
"That's a silly question, Morgan. Because I was interested in you," Ethan chuckled. "As for the paintings…" He shrugged. "They don't really stir anything in me. However, your work is the exception."
"I barely have any paintings," Noah laughed.
"You have an entire stack of sketchbooks," Ethan reminded him.
"Well... that's not exactly the same," Noah mumbled, deciding not to mention the rather questionable nature of most of their contents. Not that Ethan needed reminding. He knew perfectly well what filled the majority of those pages. After Noah had finally given him permission, Ethan spent several evenings carefully studying every single sketch with almost unsettling attention. Noah was super embarrassed. Every time he caught another look of surprise crossing Ethan's face, he'd abruptly found an excuse to wash the dishes or disappear into the bathroom. Sharing that part of himself turned out to be much harder than he'd expected. The aftermath was even worse, because Ethan had promptly made it his mission to bring to life—not all, perhaps, but at least most—of the fantasies Noah had sketched. Many of which were anything but ordinary.
"And who gets to decide what is or isn't normal?" Ethan asked with a frown.
"Society, I guess."
"What do we care about society?" Ethan scoffed. "To hell with it."
He had a point.
"Oh my God!" His grandmother's sudden gasp made Noah jump. He hurried toward her. The old lady stood frozen in front of one of the paintings, both trembling hands clapped over her mouth. As Morgan reached her, his eyes followed hers to the canvas—and he froze.
"That's…" His voice stuck in his throat. "Ethan... that's…"
Ethan merely shrugged with indifference. Among works by Ivan Aivazovsky, Claude Joseph Vernet, and Edward Brian Seago hung a painting by a different small artist. It depicted a small figure of a boy standing before a towering wave. Beneath the dark water, the unmistakable silhouette of a stingray loomed toward him with its mouth open. The plaque beside the painting read:
Barbara Williams
The Devil's Eye
"You were the one who told me how wonderful it'd be to bring your grandmother to an exhibition like this," Ethan said quietly.
"Oh, Ethan!" Noah couldn't hold his emotions anymore. Stepping closer, he slipped his arms around Ethan's neck and leaned in to kiss him on the lips, right through the black medical mask. "You're the best, really," he whispered when he finally pulled away.
"I know," Ethan replied without the slightest hint of embarrassment. "But apparently that's still not enough to convince you to move in with me," he added under his breath with a quiet snort.
"It's not that I don't want to live with you," Noah said with a smile, but he never got the chance to finish. Barbara, who finally recovered from her shock, suddenly turned toward them.
"Noah! Do you see it?" she exclaimed. "Do you see it, my boy?" Ethan gave the faintest grimace and opened his mouth to answer when Barbara's slender fingers unexpectedly closed around Noah's wrist. "Look!" she said, her voice bright with excitement. "That's my painting, sweetheart! Mine!" She continued, looking Noah directly in the eye, fully aware that it was him.
"Yes, Grandma, it is," Morgan nodded, suddenly feeling a lump rise in his throat. Had she recognized him? Or was this simply another fragment of memory falling into place by chance?
"I remember painting this," Barbara said softly, still holding on to Noah's hand. "And do you remember?" She looked directly at him. Noah froze. "Did you notice the colors I chose?" she asked. "The main color of this painting is the same as the color of your eyes." Noah's grandmother reached his cheek and patted it gently. "My goodness... you've grown into such a handsome young man. And your eyes are still full of the sea. Don't ever lose it, okay?"
Noah couldn't find his voice. The sea inside him began to stir, threatening to spill down his cheeks.
"And then... you added the stingray," he murmured instead, trying to keep his emotions from overwhelming him.
"Yes," Barbara said with a nod. "I remember. When you told me about your gift, I understood that I had to leave you something that would remind you…"
"Remind me of what?"
"That with great power comes great responsibility!"
Noah blinked. Then he burst into laughter.
"Grandma... are you seriously quoting Uncle Ben from Spider-Man?"
"And why shouldn't I?" Barbara asked with playful indignation. "You adored those comics. Besides, the words are true. What difference does it make who said them first?"
"I guess you're right."
"I think it's a frightening gift." After a thoughtful pause, she spoke again, much more quietly. "Seeing people without their masks."
She was right. It was.
"Oh…" Only then did Barbara seem to notice Ethan, and for the first time she looked at him without mistaking him for her grandson.
"This is Ethan, Grandma," Noah said. "My boyfriend."
"It's such a pleasure to meet you, young man!" Barbara greeted him with a radiant smile. "I'm Barbara."
"I kn—" Ethan caught himself. "It's a pleasure to meet you too, Mrs. Williams."
Barbara turned back to Noah.
"Are you happy with him?"
"Y-Yes," Noah answered, immediately feeling heat rush into his face. "Very happy." Ethan already knew exactly how Noah felt about him. Somehow, admitting it out loud in front of him was still unbearably embarrassing.
"That's wonderful," Barbara said with a satisfied nod. "Truly wonderful."
Then, quite suddenly, the clarity faded from her eyes.
"I think I'm getting tired," she murmured. "May I sit down and rest for a while?"
"Yes, of course."
There were benches placed throughout the gallery, giving visitors a chance to sit and spend a little longer with whichever painting spoke to them. Noah helped his grandmother onto a bench positioned directly in front of her painting, then remained standing behind her so he wouldn't block her view.
"You were right," Ethan said, taking his place beside Noah. "Your grandmother's painting fits this gallery perfectly."
"Thank you," Noah said softly. "For all of this."
"You're welcome."
"I don't know how you managed to pull it off. And actually... it doesn't even matter. I just want you to know that you're an incredible person."
"That's debatable."
"I can provide a thousand and one pieces of evidence."
"Oh, really? I'd be happy to examine everything."
Morgan laughed.
After letting the silence settle for half a minute, Ethan spoke again: "So... why exactly don't you want to move in with me?"
"It's because I'm not convinced you realize how serious this step is," Noah admitted.
"And what makes you think that?"
"You usually say exactly what you want." Noah glanced at him. "'I want…' That's how you normally put it. However, this time it was, 'It'd be more convenient if…'"
Ethan sighed.
"So the problem is my wording? I want you to move in with me."
"No." Noah shook his head. "That actually sounds even worse. I think that you're not entirely sure if it's the right idea."
"It is the right idea," Ethan replied immediately. "The only thing I'm unsure about is me."
"Breaking news! Ethan Thomson doubts himself?"
"Very funny," Ethan's expression darkened. "I doubt myself all the time. And because of that…"
"And because of that," Noah finished quietly, "you doubt me too?"
Ethan shook his head.
"And because of that I'm not sure you'll be happy with me," this confession felt far more difficult than Thomson imagined.
"Ethan…" Noah sighed. "I'm happy with you every single day!"
"Then...then move in with me! I start my internship in six weeks at the law firm. I'm barely going to have any free time. I can't pass up an opportunity like that—but I can't stand the thought of not seeing you for weeks, either. I know it sounds selfish. Most people can't balance a career and a relationship. But my father managed it. So will I. I don't want to waste the little free time I'll have driving across the city when I could be spending it with you. And even if I come home after you've already fallen asleep...and leave before you wake up...I still want to feel your presence in my life. Every damn day." The words came pouring out with such intensity that Noah was left speechless. Ethan fell silent. Slowly, he exhaled, forcing himself back under control. When he finally looked up again, his eyes weren't on Morgan. They were fixed on the Devil's Eye hanging before them.
"Fluffy and Peanut will absolutely destroy the leather couch in your living room."
"I'll buy another one."
"You're going to buy a new couch every month?"
"If I have to."
"And I'll need space for my paintings."
"We have a spare room."
"The one with the hook in the ceiling?"
"Exactly."
"Ethan...You have no shame."
Thomson's shoulders trembled with quiet laughter.
"I think it's the perfect room." As he spoke, the backs of their hands brushed.
A second later, Ethan's fingers slipped between Noah's.
"We'll come back to this conversation," Noah murmured, making it clear that this wasn't the time to argue about it.
"Without a doubt," Ethan agreed.
And so they stood there together behind Noah's grandmother, gazing at her painting.
The Devil's Eye.
Before she'd reworked it, though, the painting had a different title.
The Lonely Boy.
Well…
Don't worry, Grandma. That boy isn't lonely anymore.
The End
Author's Note
The author and translator express their gratitude to all the readers who chose to spend their time with this book!